


Taste

by L122YTorch (orphan_account)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:38:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/L122YTorch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jim catches a whiff of the wrong alien flower and loses his inhibitions. He escapes Bones just long enough…to lick Spock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Your wish is my command. Here is the beginning of the fic based on my previous sketch
> 
> +++++++++++++

Looking back on the entire incident, Jim really shouldn’t have been poking around in the agriculture base on the Enterprise. 

But sitting on one’s ass all day can become tedious, and he was bored! He knew that the crew brought back samples from their most recent excursion to planetoid D-5968, and he thought he’d check it out.

It felt so good to get out from beneath the bright lights on the main deck and stretch his legs down the long corridors that ran through the ship like veins.

Finally, Jim reached the door, but it was locked. Hardly deterred, he punched in his captain’s override code and strode in. The room had bluish lights, it smelled like dirt and the air was so heavy with moisture that it clung to Jim’s lungs.

Walking down one of the aisles, the captain took note of the odd looking specimens. Some of the items seemed soft and pliable, their “leaves” stretching and moving as if they possessed consciousness. While other plants were hard, as if made of concrete, with intricate branch-like fingers that intertwined and reached for the light. 

The leafy ones were a rich bluish purple, while the ones that resembled coral were a brighter pinker purple. The entire room was like the ultraviolet spectrum of the color wheel, save for one spot of yellow that caught Jim’s eye.

His eyes longed for brightness amid the darker tones, so he drew closer to a purple plant in the corner of the room with glowing yellow flowers sprouting from it’s shoots. 

Reaching out a hand, he nearly touched it’s petals with the pads of his fingers before stopping and pulling his hand back. Upon second thought, it didn’t seem like a good idea to man-handle these possibly fragile plants. But it just smelled so warm, inviting and good.

The scent of the flower nested into the soft tissue in Jim’s nose. But he could barely smell it. It was like the flower teased him, daring him to take a real whiff. So Jim bent down, bringing his nose to the flower and before he could realize what was going on, the flower unfolded it’s innermost petals and expelled a sort of … powder.

Jim managed to take a step back before sneezing violently, his whole head snapping forward with the force of it, once then twice. 

"Dammit Jim!" he heard Bones shout after the locked door whirled open once more. "What the hell are you doing in here?!" the man said, walking towards Jim, stopping abruptly when he saw the opened yellow flower.

”What did you do?!” Bones yelled, his eyes wide. “I…nothing! I just…it smelled good, so I went in for a better whiff. I didn’t touch it I swear!”

"This door was locked for a reason Jim! We don’t know what effect this stuff will have on people."

"Well, why wasn’t there a warning sign or something!" Jim squinted, his face felt warm, and the scent of the flower was still wrapped up in his nose and settling on the back of his tongue.

"Well the damn door was locked! Only the captain’s code could override it, and I figured that you sure as hell wouldn’t be down here doing experiments!" Bones growled, crossing his arms. "What are you doing here?"

"I was bored…" Jim said meekly, like a kid who was caught throwing a party while his parents were away.

"Well, how do you feel?"

"Fine," Jim lied, hoping to avoid poking and prodding from Bones. He walked back down the aisle and moved to pass McCoy, but the doctor’s hands halted him. "And where do you think you’re going?"

"To my quarters…"

"Like hell you are! You were just exposed to some alien substance!"

"I think I’ll make it," Jim said with the disarming smile he’d used a thousand times to get out of trouble.

"I’m keeping an eye on you, you’re spending the night in the med bay."

"Booonnneeessss…." Jim whined. "Don’t be a baby," Bones said, grabbing his arm and dragging him out the door and down the hall to med bay. 

On the trip there, Jim’s eyes began to sting and a headache began to form at the base of his skull. He squinted against the harsh corridor lights and tired to convince himself he was fine. 

For a moment he wondered what Spock would think of this entire situation. How Spock would react to a flower sneezing in his face, to being dragged down the hall by Dr. McCoy, how the scent of the flower would taste on his tongue.

Kirk was so lost in thought that he didn’t even realize when they’d arrived at med bay. Bones plopped him down on an exam bed and scanned him with a tricorder before hitting him with a hypospray. 

"OW, shit!" Jim yelped. "Was that really necessary?" "Well…can’t hurt," Bones said with a grin. "You enjoy inflicting your pain on me, don’t you?" "Maybe a little," the doctor replied.

Jim looked up at him, eyes wide and black, realizing for the first time just how green Bones eyes were. He sat, openly gawking at his friend, acutely aware of the turn of his mouth, the fine wrinkles that gathered between his eyebrows, the way his hair fell against his forehead.

"I’m gonna get you something to change in to," Bones said turning away from Jim, apparently unaware of Jim’s hyper observation.

A wave of heat rolled down Jim’s spine. I don’t feel so good, he thought to himself standing. I want out of here. 

He followed his sudden urge to move and walked right out of med bay. His brain wasn’t exactly sure where his feet were going, but somehow they managed to carry him to Spock.

The Vulcan was in one of the research labs by himself. He looked perturbed, taking a quick glance at Jim, and then doing a double-take when he saw Jim’s expression.

"Are you alright captain?" Spock asked, concern replacing the annoyance that was on his face. 

"Actually, yeah," Jim said smiling, walking towards Spock, relieved that the storm clouds of his headache began to part. Spock turned to face him, his chocolate eyes sweeping over the officer. "Are you sure? You look different."

Jim’s blown pupils drank in all the details of Spock, the way his inky black hair caught the light, the slight tint of green beneath the soft skin of his lips, the way the veins on his hands protruded and disappeared into the sprinkling of hair that started up his wrists. “So do you,” Jim practically groaned, licking his bottom lip.

As Jim’s gaze scanned Spock, the Vulcan’s cheeks began to turn a delicious shade of green. Kirk moved even closer. Spock tried to back up, but he backed into a counter.

Spock’s eyes looked…startled, he didn’t know how to react to Jim’s expression, he didn’t understand what was happening.

"You should blush more often Spock," Jim said, putting a hand on the side of Spock’s face, which only turned the Vulcan greener. "It’s beautiful," he said, staring at the Vulcan’s cheek. 

The human’s head swam as he reveled in the feel of flesh beneath his fingers. They were so close that he could feel the coolness that radiated off Spock. It was like a man on fire jumping into a pool; it felt so good to be so close.

"Captain…" "Jim," he corrected, cutting Spock off, digging his nails into the flesh of Spock’s cheek. 

It didn’t hurt too bad, the Vulcan just stood frozen, letting all of this transpire.

"Jim…why are you here? Why are you doing this?"

"For you," Jim said, bringing his face to touch Spock’s, "because I’ve wanted to do this. I still want to," he said, dragging his nails down the Vulcan’s now brightly tinted cheek. Little green scratches formed, drawing the slightest amount of deep green blood.

"You want to scratch me? Hurt me?" Spock queried. A wide smile stretched across Jim’s face. "Noooo," Jim’s breath skipped across Spock’s lips. "I want to taste you," he answered, bringing his lips to Spock’s. 

Jim’s body pressed up against his first officer’s, his erection painfully obvious, his hand still on the face opposite him, drops of Vulcan blood gathering on his fingers.

Spock was caught completely off-guard, his lips remained closed as Jim’s tongue tasted his, and then in an instant, the kiss was over. And Spock was surprised to realize that he missed the warmth of Jim’s flushed red lips, it upset him that he wasn’t prepared…

The mouth was removed from his and he expected Jim to pull away, but instead, the captain lowered the hand whose fingers dug into his face and his tongue darted out. 

The tongue was warm and wet and bright pink and started at the bottom of the nail marks, slowly following the lines up his cheekbone.

A noise that Jim had never heard before rumbled out of Spock’s throat. The Vulcan’s eyes snapped shut, Jim couldn’t read his face, but he didn’t really care. Spock’s skin was smooth and cool and the blood tasted tangy and metallic.

"JIM!" Bones yelled the name like it was a curse word. He hurried towards the captain, grabbing a fistful of the back of his shirt and hauled him away from Spock.


	2. Chapter 2

Spock tasted delectable, the salty sweet of his skin still clung to Jim's tongue as Bones dragged his body towards the door. 

The Vulcan stood motionless, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his bangs. If he was capable of experiencing and expressing shock, Jim guessed that this is what it looked like. 

Spock's lips were parted but motionless, bright green streaks shone under the gloss of Jim's saliva, his cheeks were a burning shade of grass green that also crept up his neck and graced the tips of his ears. 

Seeing this rare emotional reaction made a wide, loopy grin stretch across Jim's face. He didn't want to leave the room, but didn't have much of a choice due to Bones' vice grip.

He and the doctor made it out the door and a little ways down the hall before Jim realized how tingly and weak his legs felt. Bones had a steady hold on him and they were attempting to walk to med bay, but heavy, uncoordinated feet struggled to stay in a straight line.

"A little help here?!" Bones said over his shoulder to a thoroughly confused Spock who had finally caught up. 

Jim felt the right side of his body lift, and his head lulled to the blue shoulder that had suddenly appeared there. "Spawk," he managed to say before his legs gave out completely. 

"This is not working," Spock said as he pulled Jim's body away from Bones, who was propping up Jim's left side, and flung the captain up like a rag doll into his strong arms.

"What happened? What is wrong with him?" Spock asked Bones as they briskly strode towards med bay.

"He came in contact with a flower from D-5968…he inhaled it's pollen."

"Will he be alright?" Spock asked, concern barely concealed in the edges of his voice.

"I sure as hell hope so."

Jim was still conscious, looking up at Spock through bleary blue eyes. He loved it when Spock walked fast and his black hair flopped up and down. Green blood was pooling at his chin, about to drip off of the angular precipice, so Jim brought up an uncoordinated hand and wiped it.

The action didn't seem to affect Spock who continued looking straight ahead and picking up his pace.

The journey to med bay seemed to take forever, maybe it was the pollen, Jim didn't know. But he sure didn't mind being held by Spock. His muscled arms and gripping hands were firm and inviting. Everything about him was gorgeous, sometimes it seemed like his whole body was sculpted out of the palest, coolest stone. 

Every time he had managed to touch Spock, whether by accident or on purpose, it would make Jim's heart stutter. It felt like he could never be close enough to Spock. He desperately wanted to see, touch and taste Spock…all of Spock…every inch. 

The color that had died down in Spock's face was returning, a green flush exploding across his face. His heart beat faster in his side where Jim's ear rested against the rustling blue fabric of his shirt.

Through a muddled mind Jim managed to put two and two together: touch telepath.

The realization made Jim's chest hum, his mind vibrating in acceptance of the idea that his thoughts weren't private. It only threw fuel on his already burning desire to melt into Spock.

A sleek white door whooshed open and the trio rushed into med bay.

Finally. They made it.

Spock put Jim's limp body down on a bio bed, relief flooding his senses at the loss of contact between them. The onslaught of physical contact, mental activity and emotional shock & stress he just experienced, had the Vulcan internally reeling.

The lights in med bay were blindingly bright and Jim squinted hard against them. He could feel cool air hitting his chest as sounds of tearing fabric filled his ears. There was a sharp sting to his neck, and then another. Bones and Chapel murmured things over him and put sticky little sensors on his exposed chest. 

There was just too much going on around him, and if Jim couldn't see or touch Spock, he didn't really see the point of remaining conscious. So he relaxed his mind around the latest hypospray that Bones administered and drifted into darkness.

Spock's face was as still as solid ground, his eyes cool and emotionless. "Will he recover doctor?" he asked in an admirably stolid tone after about fifteen minutes of watching the medical team work.

"Yeah…" Bones sighed the singular word more than spoke it. "He should be fine. I don't detect any toxins or chemicals that should have any lasting effect." 

McCoy turned to Spock, his green flecked eyes glided over the Vulcan's face.

"I should take a look at that," Bones said pointing at Spock's cheek. "Looks like Jim managed to scratch you up pretty good."

"I don't believe that will be necessary. Your efforts are better spent on the Captain, I can clean the wounds myself."

"Have it your way," Bones said, turning back to Jim.

"How quickly do you expect the captain to recover?"

"Probably about a day. We'll flood his system with this," Bones said tapping on an IV bag, "to help get the substance out of his system. Damn kid is lucky he didn't get himself killed," the doctor snapped. "God knows what substances could have been in that alien plant," he shook his head made a mental note to slap Jim later.

"I am assuming that his actions were a result of the pollen's effects?" 

"Was that a statement or a question?"

Spock stood still and awkwardly silent for a moment before saying, "a question."

"I don't know Spock…the pollen could have lowered his inhibitions or simply made him delusional. It's anyone's guess. What matters most is that he's alive and he's going to stay that way."

It was certainly good news, but not enough of an answer for a scientist.

"I would like to run a variety of tests to gather more information about the plant," Spock replied, dissatisfied with the doctor's answer, or lack thereof. "I will let you know what I find."

"Knock yourself out," Bones said, "just make sure to put on the damn hazard suit before going in there."

"Of course," Spock said, giving a slight courteous nod before exiting med bay.

He had nearly forgotten about the marks on his cheek, but the stares he was garnering as he made his way down the corridor served as a reminder. 

Quickly, he ducked into the restroom, locked the door and pulled a med kit out from it's notch in the wall. 

His strong slender fingers expertly located the necessary items from the kit and laid them out on the small gray counter. For the first time since the "incident," he looked up at his reflection in the mirror. 

Dark green dried blood crusted around the four scratches, his hair was tousled and out of place, and his eyes whispered tales of emotional compromise. 

Immediately he replayed the scenario that took place in the lab. Clearly he could imagine Jim parting his heavy pink lips and darting his tongue out to soothe over the marks. The mental image sent a bolt of arousal through Spock. It was so easy to recall Jim's warm body pressed upon his own, his erection eagerly straining against Spock.

The Vulcan let out a nearly inaudible groan as he began to tend to his face. 

He willed the thoughts and images from his mind, but it wasn't easy. He had become aroused just thinking about it. Half-hard he strained over the counter to view his face more closely in the mirror. On a certain level he felt disgusted that he allowed himself such an indulgent response to the events that had occurred.

Jim was under the influence of a substance, surely this was not how he felt prior to these events. And what right did Spock have to catalog every detail of this encounter in his mind? 

Gently he wiped antiseptic over each scratch, imagining the way the light graced over the indentations as Kirk's fingers pushed and dragged. He could almost feel Jim's lips ghosting over his own that he now observed in the mirror. 

He took a deep breath. 

The little silver box clicked shut after Spock was finished fixing up his face and had returned all of the items to their proper location. He should inform the supplies officer of the items he had used so that they could be replaced.

He looked in the mirror once again before leaving. The marks were still there, little drags of green lines, but much less messy and now disinfected thoroughly. 

Spock felt irrational spur of anger spike in his chest. Nothing about this day past 1400 should have transpired. He wished he could forget the entire thing, and raged at the part of himself that admitted that would be a lie. 

He slammed the med box back into place and walked out into the hall. 

It was a short stroll to the lab where the plant was housed. The hazard suits hung in a closet next to the door. It's funny that Bones had told him to wear a hazard suit, when he himself had failed to do so earlier. Bones' code was in the lock's log, yet the closet code had not been opened.

Spock slid it open and pulled out a suit, slipping it on quickly and grabbing the accompanying breathing piece around his nose and mouth. 

With the entry code registered, the door whirled open and Spock stepped inside of the first chamber. The door behind him slid shut and the one in front of him slid open. 

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust, but soon he could make out each individual violet and blue plant. It was a beautiful sight, and one could easily imagine walking through a forest dense with these deep hues that made the onlookers' vision vibrate.

Slowly Spock walked down one of the aisles, easily spotting the bright yellow flower that had caught Jim's eye. It was as gold as Jim's uniform, and as beautiful as the man who wore it.

It's intricately woven petals intertwined and kept the specimen closed up.

Spock pulled an examination kit out and began to carefully look the flower and plant over. As he grew closer to it, he expected it to open up and spew it's pollen out, just as it had done to Jim earlier. But no matter how close Spock got, nothing happened.

Finally, after some research and some prodding, the scientist reached the conclusion that he could not recreate the plant's action. Either it was a one time thing, or it lacked the elements it needed from it's indigenous environment to "recharge."

Frustrated, Spock stood back, eyebrows knitted, arms crossed, and stared at the plant.

He couldn't find the answers he needed and wondered if he would ever know the true motive behind Jim's actions. Was it a drug induced delirium or a reprieve granted from his inhibitions, allowing him to do things that he has always wanted to do?

The latter option seemed highly unlikely.

Lurking forward, Spock gathered up the observational tools one by one, their metallic shine tinted blue beneath the atmosphere recreation lights. 

He snapped the kit shut and returned it to it's home, taking one final moment to observe the glowing golden flower before leaving. 

It would not bow to his ministrations, it would not reveal it's substance and come undone. It's warm glow drifted through the humid space and fell on the peak's of Spock's features. 

And for some unknown reason, as he stood and stared at the flower, Spock felt a wave of disappointment at the idea that Jim's thoughts and actions were misguided and simply fueled by a drug.

But why?

Why did he feel disappointed?


End file.
